


Raze

by Hannigrammatic



Category: Hannibal (TV), Red Dragon - Thomas Harris
Genre: F/F, First Meetings, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-30
Updated: 2016-03-30
Packaged: 2018-05-30 03:56:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6407794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hannigrammatic/pseuds/Hannigrammatic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly is sitting on the deck with a sweating glass of lemonade the day Reba McClane arrives in a black SUV. They’ve never seen each other before, never heard of each other before, but when the dark-haired woman gets out of the passenger seat, Molly feels a connection that she can’t explain.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raze

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly this pairing intrigues me. Might write more on and off to this, drabble-form<3

_Marathon, Florida_

Molly doesn’t often have to be reminded of Will. He doesn’t ever really leave her thoughts, though she’d like him to. The man she used to be married to feels like a spectre now, something from a dream that bordered on being a nightmare -a memory that had turned sour not long after her ex-husband disappeared into the night.

She still has their cozy former home, the wooden house emptied of most of her and Walter’s things; they’d taken to staying with her parents in Oregon instead, but sometimes she flies out to Marathon and sits on the deck in one of the cushioned chairs. Her mother has been pushing her to sell the property and properly move back in, eyes bright and smile plastered on with a sincerity that Molly is familiar with but knows deep inside that mostly extends to her son. The aging couple have been grasping for something to hold them together, and doting on little Walter is fine by Molly.

Mostly she just doesn’t want them to notice how torn she is. She knows they’re happy that Will Graham is gone, after all. They’d never liked him very much.

Molly is sitting on the deck with a sweating glass of lemonade the day Reba McClane arrives in a black SUV. They’ve never seen each other before, never heard of each other before, but when the dark-haired woman gets out of the passenger seat, Molly feels a connection that she can’t explain. It’s explained for her minutes later, when the stranger walks slowly toward the front porch, white cane extended in front of her and _tip-tapping_ on the ground. 

“Hi there,” Molly calls out, voice strong but wavering at the end with confusion -the unexpected visitor has thrown her for a small loop.

“Hello,” the woman stops at the top of the steps and Molly stands to meet her, uncertain if she should extend her hand.

They both stop in front of the door leading into the house, the screen window opened wide to coax a breeze into the house. The stranger extends her hand wordlessly, and Molly, politeness ingrained into her bones from a very young age, grasps the woman’s hand firmly.

“Reba,” the woman says. “Reba McClane.”

“Molly G- Foster. Molly Foster,” she winces, wants to correct it, then remembers the woman she’s shaking hands with can’t see her face.

The skin on Reba’s hand is rough and scarred. A burn scar, Molly determines when she glances quickly down. She looks back at Reba’s face and into brown, unseeing eyes. The woman’s thick black hair is pulled into a loose bun much like Molly’s own, and her dark skin gleams under the bright sun. On her face is an expression Molly can’t read.

“I’ll be frank,” Reba says, withdrawing her hand. “I’m looking for Will Graham.”

Of course.

Molly’s guts tangle unpleasantly, and she looks away because she can without seeming rude. At least she allows herself that illusion. Steeling herself, she answers.

“He’s not here. Hasn’t been here for quite a while,” it’s harder to say than Molly expected. “He left a few months ago.”

_Left_ meaning disappeared. Into the black of night with nary a note, much less a word from lips she often kissed and thought she knew. Like the man himself. Molly bites back a sigh and shrugs before she can help herself.

“That’s a shame,” Reba continues, tone quiet and perhaps curious. 

They stand there together until Molly snaps to herself and invites Reba inside. The woman gracefully accepts and walks through the door that is held open for her, chin raised and head high. Molly can feel this woman’s strength in the very air around her, and as she prepares a drink for her visitor, she feels envy. Since Will’s departure, she’s found herself in a pretty weak place. Molly isn’t used to floundering, at least it’s been awhile for her, and she doesn’t like it at all -it reminds her of when Wally’s father died, of the absence after that.

In some ways, it feels the same with Will. She thinks sometimes she seems him coming around the corner with his oil-stained jeans and his crooked smile, and then other times it’s as if he never was here in the first place.

“It’s taking me a long time to track Mister Graham down,” Reba starts, taking a seat and collapsing her red-tipped cane to stow it in her leather purse. “I guess this is my sign to give it a rest.”

She’s wearing a smart blazer over a frilly dark blue blouse, and a long skirt. She wears no makeup or jewellery, but then, she doesn’t need it. Reba has a grace about her that humbles Molly, who sits across from her in the living room. The fire is out, and the house is no longer a home, and yet here she remains.

“I wish I could help you,” Molly says and means it. “I honestly don’t know where he went.”

Hard to say that and mean it.

“Well, that’s my luck,” Reba smirks despite the comment sounding self-depreciative.

*

Reba tells her about the Dragon, a different version of events that Molly had been treated to from Will. Where he had sought to tell her as little as possible, Reba tells her everything she never knew she wanted to know. Her horrific retelling of events, from meeting Dolarhyde to his faked suicide, left Molly barely refraining from shaking. And when Reba tells her about Will, who visited her at the hospital as she sucked on ice cubes and attempted to make sense of the last several hours, everything drops for a split second. That’s Will alright, that’s her darling ma- Will is an honest man, blunt and realistic, but he’s also a caring man. She agrees immediately with his comment that Reba had drawn a man with a freak on his back, and not the freak, not the Dragon. 

Here is a woman who’d flown from Chicago, who had sought to find Will and inadvertently joined Molly in the echoes that he left behind. And for what? To thank him.

( _Closure. Molly wants that too._ )

She can’t deny that she’s glad for the company, even if she can only offer a lemonade on a hot Florida day and nothing else.

Or maybe something else eventually.


End file.
